Poem: They Could Be Greener

I looked into her eyes, and admitting my mistake said,
“Oh I guess they ARE green,
but they could be greener.”
Her eyes opened wider,
shock shimmered across her wholly green pupils.
“How could they be greener?
They’re all the way green.”

I felt humidity rising from under my collar,
sticking to my face.
“Um… like more emerald-y” I stammered.
I knew what I meant.
The words were in my brain,
but dissolved before they reached my lips.

‘Your eyes are forest green,Without much light they appear brown,No less beautiful, just unidentifiable.Unlike the glowing green of a lime.’

But my lips and tongue had been rendered useless,
newly dried out, tangled up in each other,
a string of cords woven together accidentally,
incapable of being straightened quickly.

Her cheeks are tomato red.
They could not be redder.
Although I cannot see it,
I know she is exhaling steam.
Finally her lips curl up at the ends,
turning into the grin of an animal
before it finishes off its prey.
Again words fail me,

‘Thank you.I don’t want brighter,I don’t want more vivid.I want to see them as brown, in the dark.I want to see them as green, in the light.I don’t want them to be greener,But they could be.’